Crystal, Crystal, Clear or Smeared?
by royaltyjunk
Summary: [AU] They were like crystals; bright, beautiful, and brimming with hope.


Summary:

[AU] They were like crystals; bright, beautiful, and brimming with hope.

 _Author's Ideas: Written for my friend's birthday. Taking a break from V3 but I'm probably going to go right back in after this_

 _None of that anime brainwashing bullshit, we doing despair like a real DR game_

* * *

Crystal, Crystal, Clear or Smeared?

* * *

The small flag beside the mailbox is standing up, Komaeda notices as he walks up the sidewalk to his house. It's been a while since he's had mail, and he can't but feel curious. After all, who'd want to send mail to someone like him?

He opens the mailbox, expecting some kind of junk mail, or small prank. His classmates prank him all the time. He wouldn't be surprised if they decided to mail him one of their pranks.

Instead, he gets a sealed and stamped envelope that's surprisingly more professional than what he expected. He pulls it out, frowning as he reads the words. Each one makes him more confused.

"Hope's Peak Academy?" he murmurs. "Why… would they send something to someone like me?"

There's something in the back of his mind that nags at him, and tells him his sneaking suspicions are true, that's it's really happening - what he always secretly wanted was happening.

No, it can't be. They wouldn't dare send someone like him an invitation to such a prestigious, hope-filled academy.

He unlocks his door and steps inside, careful to lock the door behind him before dropping his bag by the couch and opening the letter. His fingers are trembling now, and he can barely open the envelope.

Inside is a pristine white letter, perfectly folded into thirds. He places the envelope onto the coffee table carelessly, and unfolds the letter.

He brushes his fingers across the large logo in the upper left corner. It's Hope's Peak's insignia - he's seen it more than enough times to know. His eyes fix themselves on the small words that are printed on the paper.

"Dear Nagito Komaeda," the letter reads. He says the words under his breath. "We, on behalf of Hope's Peak Academy's researching facilities, would like to invite you to attend Hope's Peak Academy for your remaining three years in high school. Please fill in the forms on the Hope's Peak Academy website under the category 'For Incoming Students' and mail them to the academy's address, written down below. Thank you for your time. We look forward to your attendance at our academy."

For a minute, he just stares blankly at the paper, barely able to comprehend the words flying through his mind. It was as if the words he read went in one eye and out the other, like his parents had used to tell him when he was young.

"No." Komaeda shakes his head. "This…"

It takes him a few days to get his thoughts in order, and to think; really think. His world has turned upside down, and although he would love to join, he doesn't deserve it.

So he spends the days after that writing a letter refusing their invitation. It pains his heart to truly think about refusing an invitation to Hope's Peak Academy - the school he's idolized for so long! - but he's useless there. All he'll be is a stepping stone for the other Ultimates.

He sends the letter, and can't sleep for the next two nights.

The first night, all he can think of is how he will continue to living a boring life as a normal student. And, to tell the truth, the idea warms on him as he settles on it.

The second night, though, he begins to think about the other Ultimates, about the other Ultimates who could've used his uselessness as a way to step forward, and he begins, slowly, to regret his choice until his whole heart is filled with regret and unhappiness.

It's the middle of the night, and then the old phone that hangs onto its landline by a single cable starts ringing. He thinks it's a good thing he was awake, and tosses aside the covers and stumbles through the dark toward the phone.

"Hello?"

"Is Komaeda Nagito available?" It's a deep voice, one that he's not familiar with. He's learned to grow cautious of unknown strangers dialing his number - especially after his kidnapping a few years ago. "I am an administrator from Hope's Peak Academy's school board. I'd like to speak with him."

That sentence tosses all his doubts and worries out of the window.

"Yes, this is he. Why did you want to speak with me?"

"We received your letter, you see, and we'd like you to reconsider your refusal. We here believe that you have an extraordinary connection to luck and misfortune, and we'd like to study it."

"How… how did you know?"

"We looked into your background, and discovered many interesting things. Your kidnapping, for example. It was an extremely unlucky incident, and yet you ended up winning the lottery for three million yen. Your luck is something so extraordinary and rare. So, we'd like to invite you, one more time, to join us at Hope's Peak Academy. What do you say?"

In his heart, the answer is crystal clear.

~ / . / . / ~

They were like crystals; bright, beautiful, and brimming with hope. They were more than he had ever hoped for.

There were so many talents for him to encourage! A swordswoman, a dancer, a mechanic, a photographer, even a princess and a yakuza leader, and so many more. It was more than he could've ever imagined.

"Komaeda-kun?" a gentle voice pulls him out of his thoughts. "Komaeda… Komaeda-kun, right?"

"Ah, yes, that's me." He smiles. "You're Tsumiki-san, right? Did you need something?"

"No… no, I did… didn't need any… any… anything. Um… I just… I'm s-sorry!"

"Why are you apologizing?" he asks softly, and resists the urge to tell her that she shouldn't be apologizing to someone like him; that as an Ultimate, she should hold her head up high. Instead, he just smiles, and says comfortingly, "You can talk to me."

"S.. sorry," she murmurs. "I just, just wanted to talk t-to you more. You...You know, as classmates!"

"Really?" he questions. "Why… me?"

"Well… why… why not y-you?" Tsumiki stutters out. "I… I want t-to know more about… about you, Komaeda-kun!"

"Oh…?" he tilts his head. "Well, what would you like to ask me?"

"Um… uh…" Tsumiki fidgets, and Komaeda smiles sympathetically.

"How about I ask first then?"

"Oh… okay!" Tsumiki agrees, nodding frantically.

"Well, how did you become the Ultimate Nurse?"

So, as Tsumiki describes the life she lived and how she became the wonderful person - at least, in Komaeda's mind, he smiles. What a wonderful and exciting story - what a way to become an Ultimate! It was so unlike his life; his boring and unlucky life, like silver compared to gold.

"Um… Komaeda-kun!" Tsumiki speaks up. He blinks.

"Is something wrong, Tsumiki-san?"

"I… as th-the Ultimate Nurse, I… I want to make sure you're okay! S-So, do you… you have any pre-existing medical cond-conditions that I need to… to be aware of?"

"Oh. Just, well… lymphoma and frontotemporal dementia," he responds carefreely.

"H-Huh? Wha-wha-what do you mean, Koma… Komaeda-kun!?"

"Oh, but I'm fine now. I got really lucky and managed to outlive it."

"Komaeda-kun…! D-Don't say stuff like… like that!"

Komaeda laughs. "I promise, I'm fine, Tsumiki-san."

"B-But…"

And as he continues to talk with Tsumiki, and laugh and joke with her, he can feel the hope growing in her, and knows that he made the right decision.

They'll learn to hate him eventually. Then, they'll use him a stepping stone, and create the hope he wants them to create. He is the silver to their gold, and he is more than content with that.

~ / . / . / ~

Komaeda stares at the large banner hanging above Hope's Peak Academy's gates. It reads, "78th Class Welcome Ceremony - Give Them a Warm Welcome as New Students of Hope's Peak!"

He supposes they must be incredible students - most definitely students with better talents than a piece of garbage like him. He's heard rumors about the new class, and the kinds of students that are coming. There was another Luckster, as every class was wont to have, but aside from that, there were people who excelled in sports, academics, and everything in between. It was rumored that Sayaka Maizono, the pop idol that so many adored, would be coming to this school, alongside people like Oogami Sakura and Fukawa Touko. Of course, there was the concerning rumor of Togami Byakuya, and how the Togami in their class could either be the real one or a doppelganger, but -

"Komaeda-kun?" Nanami asks. Komaeda starts, lost in his musing, and turns in surprise. "Is something wrong?"

"No…" he looks back up at the banner. "I was just… wondering."

"...Oh, about the new class?" Nanami tilts her head. "Are you worried?"

"Not worried, more… curious," he smiles before brushing a strand of white hair behind his ear. "I suppose it's an expected reaction."

"Yeah…" Nanami nods, smiling gently. "I'm excited too. More friends…"

"More talent… more hope…" Komaeda whispers under his breath, almost out of instinct.

"Did you say something, Komaeda-kun?" Nanami asks, glancing at him worriedly.

"No, it's nothing," he replies, laughing and waving off her concerned look. "I'm just talking to myself."

"Okay… well, I'm going to go back."

"I think I'll stay here," Komaeda answers, and then turns his gaze back to the banner. It's still fluttering in the wind, as if dancing in celebration.

And for the first time, he thinks that there are butterflies in his stomach.

~ / . / . / ~

Enoshima Junko. The Ultimate Supermodel, renown for her beauty and ability to wear any outfit stunningly, no matter the circumstances.

Komaeda had never been too fond of her. There was something about her that caught his eye on that first day, something that made his skin crawl like there's a flock of fluttering butterflies inhabiting his body.

"Why, hello!" Enoshima greets him one day, and Komaeda starts, looking up from his lunch.

"Ah, Enoshima-san? Hello," he greets back, offering her a smile.

"Hello yourself! I don't think we've spoken before! You're Komaeda-senpai, right?"

He nods. "Enoshima-san… if I recall correctly, you're the Ultimate Supermodel?"

"Uh huh, uh huh! As expected of my upperclassman!" Enoshima claps her hands together, clambering to sit on top of the table. "And you're the Ultimate Luckster, right?"

Komaeda laughs. "I wouldn't say my luck can be considered, well… I don't think it's so good that it can be called a talent."

"Oh, don't say that!" Enoshima laughs, crossing her legs. "Come on, come on, you have to believe in yourself!" She squeals. "Oh, I've always wanted to say that!"

Komaeda raises an eyebrow, his attention now completely off of the bento box in front of him. He'd been mindlessly playing with his chopsticks, but now sets them down.

"What do you mean?" he asks in a low voice.

"Huh?" Enoshima's tone is suddenly scornful, and she looks down at him. "Oh, right…" She leans down, staring into Komaeda's eyes. "Komaeda Nagito. You're the guy with a huuuuuge hard-on for hope, huh?" She throws her head back, cackling. It's lost in the din of the dining hall. "I thought you'd be so much more of an enemy."

"I'm sorry?"

"After all, if I want despair, I can't possibly get it from someone as weak and boring as you."

He stares into her eyes. There's something fluttering in her eyes like flying butterflies, and it doesn't take him very long to figure it out.

It's despair, utter despair. Nothing less, but everything more.

Komaeda stands suddenly, and then turns on his heel and dashes away from her, stumbling through the halls until he bursts into his bedroom. As if in some spark of bitterly dramatic irony, he raises his head and sees a beautiful butterfly flying by his window. He curls into himself and screams.

She isn't the Ultimate Supermodel. She is the Ultimate Despair.

The despair is coming. And there's nothing his fragile, crystal self can do.

~ / . / . / ~

The moon is shining in through his window. He turns on his side, screwing his eyes shut and pulling the covers over his head. It gets too stuffy though, so he pokes his head out and sighs loudly.

Someone knocks on his door. He sits up with confusion before casting a look at the digital clock on his bedside table. The blinking red lights reflect an ungodly hour: 3:41 AM. He sighs. Five hours and twenty-two minutes of sleep - lost - and to what? A fear, a fear that should have been nothing.

The knock sounds again. He tosses aside his blankets, standing. Groggily, he walks to his door and opens it.

Silver moonlight spills into his room, outlining his shadow on his room's floor and the figure before him.

"Tsumiki-san?" he inquires softly. She begins to cry, and he starts. "Tsumiki-san!? What's wrong?"

"N-No… I'm… I'm n-not sad…!" Tsumiki replies, and even smiles. "I'm crying because I… I-I am s-so happy…!"

"What!?" A chill runs up Komaeda's spin, like butterflies dancing on his skin.

"After all…" Tsumiki lifts her gaze. "I finally met… my beloved…!"

It's despair. Despair is churning in the depths of her eyes, filling her from head to toe. He feels bile building up in the back of his throat, threatening to through his throat and spill from his mouth.

"What… what happened to you, Tsumiki-san?" Komaeda asks cautiously.

"How could you refuse her, Komaeda-kun?" Tsumiki's voice quivers with an unidentifiable emotion. "My beloved… is all the world needs…"

Chills flutter in his heart, like butterfly wings. He thinks it's ironic, how Tsumiki was, and still is, to some extent, so much like one.

"Back then... in the cafeteria... you were eavesdropping," he murmurs in realization.

"So?" Tsumiki questions scornfully. "Why does it matter you, Komaeda-kun? Didn't you deny the despair my beloved offered you?"

The bile crawls even higher. "Your beloved… you wouldn't happen to be talking about Enoshima-san, would you?"

"Of course!" Tsumiki smiles, a possessed look in her eyes. "After all… she's the only one who dared to pay me attention… so she's my beloved…!" She clasps her hands over her heart, a great smile on her face. "Hey, Komaeda-kun… you'll join us, won't you?"

In place of a reply, he slams the door. He doesn't care if it's loud or disturbs the other students; he just wants the despair to go away, and the hope to wash it away.

And for the first time, his fears spread in his heart like silver, weighing him down. They keep him awake, and the next day, unease crawls along his skin like butterflies when he walks into class and meets Tsumiki's eyes.

~ / . / . / ~

They were like crystals.

That had once been his first thought about his classmates. They were like crystals; bright, beautiful, and brimming with hope.

It had once been his first thought. Now, looking at his classmates, he never would have known what they'd once been like. Every day in class was just a facade for all of them - he could tell.

Sonia no longer took notes, or offered answers during class. She spent most of the time picking at her fingernails, sighing and looking out the window. Komaeda spent many hours of class staring at her profile, trying to figure out what was behind those blue eyes that was making her a different person.

Of course, he already knew. It was despair - it was always despair. It seemed as though he was the only person in his class, or even the world, who held hope in the depths of his heart and soul. Every day, he comes to class and finds he is one of the last people to enter the classroom.

Not that he does it intentionally; he discovers that they all come to class ahead of him now. Every time he walks in the classroom, he finds all of them huddled around one of their desks - more than often it's Kuzuryuu's, which is strange, to say the least. Whenever he so much as steps into the classroom, Pekoyama clucks her tongue, and everyone else scrambles to their seats, smiling and greeting him. They put on facades when around him or Nanami.

They can't fool him. As much as they try, they can't, and they won't, fool him. He knows that despair has already claimed them, and yet he doesn't want to believe it.

So he averts his eyes from the truth, until one day, when they're working on a poster late in the afternoon, Enoshima shows up.

One quick glance around proves that he's on his own. Yukizome isn't here, and neither is Nanami. All he's surrounded by are despair-induced classmates he had once thought were friends.

"How are all my favorite 77th class members today?" Enoshima squeals excitedly, like a young school girl meeting her crush.

Tsumiki offers her a blinding smile. "We're doing very well!"

"Hm, hm…" Enoshima crosses her arms, then looks over at Komaeda. "What about you, Komaeda-senpai?"

He blinks out of surprise, or so he thinks. "Me?"

"Of course, you!" Enoshima laughs, clapping her hands together. "Who else?"

"Well, why would you want to talk to someone as useless and unworthy as me?" he replies bitterly.

"Komaeda-kun!" Tsumiki speaks up. He wishes he could ignore her. "Don't… Don't say stuff like - like that about your… your - yourself!"

"Tsumiki-senpai is right!" Enoshima agrees happily.

Komaeda sets his pen down on his desk with a loud slam, and glares up at her. "What do you want from me?" he grinds out between gritted teeth.

"Why, your despair of course! After all, I want to see what the most hopeful person out of all of us is like when in despair!"

"A clash between hope and despair, and you want me to join despair…" he murmurs.

"Oh?" Enoshima tilts her head. "What's with the sudden curiosity, Komaeda-senpai? You're acting like Kamakura!"

Komaeda narrows his eyes, ignoring the unfamiliar name she'd brought up. He scoffs, and then falls silent.

He's hoping for a brighter, greater hope. And to bring them hope… there must be despair, he realizes. To create hope… he must bring despair. So…

"So who do you fight for, Komaeda-senpai?" Enoshima prompts, a shrewd smile on her face and a red nail pressed against her chin.

"...Despair," he replies, smiling.

They were like crystals. Cracked, shattered, smeared, and overflowing with despair.

That was his last thought about his classmates.

~ / . / . / ~

The school is in turmoil. No, turmoil doesn't do the situation justice. It's pandemonium, genocide, and absolute insanity, all rolled into one crazy occasion.

Reserve Course students fill the multiple levels of Hope's Peak Academy, screaming and yelling as they strike down teachers, students, and then themselves.

Komaeda brushes mindlessly at his hair, pushing a stray strand of it away from his cheek. He sighs, staring at the gun in his hand. It'd been given to him by Enoshima despite his inexperience with firearms, although it had been quite easy to figure out.

A set of footsteps approaching alerts him. He raises his gun, aiming for the door. The door opens. He tightens his grip around the gun's handle.

"Komaeda-kun!" Nanami breathes with relief. "I don't know where everyone else is… I was so worried…"

"Nanami-san…" he murmurs in realization. "What… are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for everyone else," she replies, a bit breathlessly. "I thought at least someone would be here…"

"Wow! That's a good brain, Nanami-senpai!"

Komaeda doesn't flinch, although Nanami does. Enoshima parades into the room, clapping her hands and jumping about.

"Who are you…?" Nanami asks, narrowing her eyes.

"Ah, I'm Enoshima Junko! From the 78th Class! Isn't that right, Komaeda-kun?" Enoshima grins, strutting to Komaeda's side and resting an arm on his shoulder.

"Ah… yes," Komaeda murmurs.

"Komaeda-kun… something's wrong, isn't it? You've been acting strange," Nanami says. "Won't you tell me…?"

"Nothing's wrong," he replies with a stiff smile. Her eyes narrow even further.

"Komaeda-kun," Nanami presses, a frantic look springing in her eyes. "Please - "

"Hey, Komaeda-senpai!" Enoshiam breaks in. "Don't you think Nanami is so super boring for not joining despair?" Enoshima cackles. "Why don't we kill her!? Here, I'll even let you have all the fun and the despair!"

Nanami's eyes widen with realization, taking in a startled breath. Komaeda doesn't say a word as he raises the gun in his hand. Nanami glances around, and then sucks in a deep breath. Komaeda squeezes his hand around the handle, and presses the trigger.

Nanami ducks and tries to break for the exit. Pekoyama crashes down from the floor above and blocks her way. With a wave to his classmate, Komaeda fires the gun once, and then twice. One of the bullets catches Nanami in the shoulder. The other goes right through her chest. She collapses the floor beside the row of desks.

He's barely lowered the gun when Yukizome appears in the doorway. Her eyes are relieved for a split second, and then they morph into a look of terror as she sees Nanami's body, crumpled on the ground, and the gun in Komaeda's hand.

"Komaeda-kun? What did you - "

Yukizome doesn't get to finish her sentence, and Komaeda can't even finish a thought before Pekoyama is in front of her, sword raised.

Komaeda doesn't look away when she brings the sword down, his gaze following the blood that streams across the floor. Screams continue to erupt from all the different floors, and the different people they kill.

Something clattering across the floor towards him catches his attention. Pekoyama meets his gaze, nods, and then dashes out of the classroom.

He picks up the small button handle, and then glances down. Nanami's corpse lays on her side, blood pooling around her. Gently, he prods her, as if checking to make sure she really is dead, though he already knows she is. Maybe some part of him wants her to be alive.

But that's bullshit, he thinks, and pushes the thought away. Her glassy eyes stare up at him. He looks away. He won't have to look at them anytime soon anyways.

He leaves the classroom, and then jams his thumb down ferociously on the button. The classroom explodes in fire and destruction, and the building begins to collapse.

Then he laughs and laughs and laughs at the despair, even as he loses his footing and Owari tosses him over her shoulder and leaps from the crumbling building, even as he grips his hands tight around the gun and fires, watching faraway bodies of living students drop dead.

Their crystal clear hearts have been blurred with despair. Somewhere, deep down inside of him, he wishes for hope to come and clean them.

~ / . / . / ~

Monaca grows tired of it all, despite the few months they've spent together. He can see it in her eyes.

Whenever he talks about hope or despair, and his wish for her to become the next Enoshima Junko, she just rolls her eyes and pulls her Monokuma hoodie over her head. In a way, it reminds him of Nanami, when she'd first arrived at the Academy. Whenever she was deep in thought, she'd pull the cat-like green hood over her head and sigh.

Of course, that habit had disappeared as soon as they'd gotten their uniforms the next day, but it never disappeared from his mind's eye. Nothing about her could go away, now that he'd killed her in cold blood.

It was for despair to rise, for hope to win.

He repeats it like a mantra. He says it in his mind, sometimes even out loud. He writes it in the children's old journals, and reads it over and over again when he can't even think out the words anymore.

"You must become the next Enoshima Junko," he tells Monaca every day, "so hope can defeat you."

Maybe it's because of that that Monaca runs away. He doesn't try to chase after her, or even find her, even though it'd be more than easy to find her; she's in a wheelchair, after all, and there's only one place she would run to.

He just laughs. She's gone. Like Enoshima. Like Nanami.

He thinks it's funny how every person he's tried to help has disappeared, like butterflies in the winter season. They fly away, and come back in the summer, changed.

Except this time, none of those butterflies come back.

He leaves Towa City. There are rumors of Kamukura having been in Towa City, but he doesn't want to stick around for a baseless rumor, just to meet the man who helped start everything. After all, they're all at fault here.

There's a silver speck in the red sky, headed right for him. He shields his eyes, glancing up. Then he grins with despair-induced excitement, because he knows what it is.

It's the Future Foundation, and he doesn't try to run, even as they land the helicopter right in front of him and armed men surround the scene. He just fiddles with his silver chain, waiting.

And then they come. Kirigiri Kyouko and Naegi Makoto. He chuckles at the thought of being arrested by the Ultimate Hope himself. He laughs at the idea that he used to be Ultimate Hope. The silver compared to the gold. The fake compared to the genuine.

"What is so funny?" Kirigiri asks. "You are about to be arrested in the name of Future Foundation. You're about to join your comrades, and then the Remnants of Despair will finally be disbanded, and the world will be at peace. Is that what you as a Remnant of Despair want?"

"Maybe I didn't want despair to win after all," he replies, grinning. Naegi purses his lips.

Kirigiri clips a pair of handcuffs around his wrists, and then removes his mitten. She frowns, and then touches the hand. Komaeda remains still.

"This is her hand," Kirigiri murmurs. "Enoshima Junko's."

Naegi flinches. Komaeda laughs. Whether his crystal heart has been cleared with hope or smeared with despair, he doesn't know anymore.


End file.
